


Hold On

by samedifference61



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bondage, Can a Dom be a Cock Slut?: A Study, Classic Kylux, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Exhibitionist Fantasies, Kylo Ren hates waiting, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post TLJ, Power Bottom Hux, Power Dynamics, Public Blow Jobs, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-10 13:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13502879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samedifference61/pseuds/samedifference61
Summary: Hux holds out one gloved hand, beckoning Ren away from the cave’s starless winding passages, back toward the salt and red earth and open sky.Ren goes to him, because there is a choice— but not really.





	Hold On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [claquesous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/claquesous/gifts).



> Claquesous prompted me with Dom Hux, hot mess Kylo Ren, and aftermath of TLJ. First time writing a full-on D/s dynamic, and it was interesting getting into that Classic Kylux headspace. I loved the challenge of constructing a post-TLJ reality using a different lens. Happy Valentine’s Day, Claquesous. ♥ I hope you enjoy!

>   _And remember, we etch our failures into our souls. We see all too clearly our own imperfections._

 “You’ve made quite a mess of this whole situation, Ren.”

Ren makes a fist where the Falcon’s dice had been moments ago, feels the phantom projection fade too soon, leaving behind a great throb of regret wedged somewhere beneath his ribcage. He wants to ignite this place and burn it to cinders along with his frustrating need to return to ties he cut a long time ago. “They’re not far,” Ren shouts, mindless and desperate. “I can feel them. The girl’s not powerful enough to shut me out.”

It’s not entirely true. Ren hasn’t felt her presence internally since Snoke’s demise, but they can’t outrun the entire First Order with only the Falcon, and he can reconnect with her. He just needs time to pin her down again.

Hux stands in the doorway, blocking the light from behind, haloing the outline with his body.

“No,” Hux utters, voice pitched low so the formation of waiting stormtroopers outside won’t hear. It isn’t meant for anyone else.

From where he’s crouching, he turns to sneer at Hux standing at parade rest, hands behind his back, mouth a hardline. Always composed in the moments when Ren is falling apart.

“Have you forgotten who you answer to now?” Ren spits out, all the anger spilling over in spectacular fashion.

Hux’s bruised neck is fading from mottled red to purple-black now, and he wears this proudly, arches his neck in a way that reminds Ren exactly what he’ll need to ask forgiveness for later. Ren shivers— but immediately shoves that aside too because, no.  He can fix this without Hux, without the First Order, without anyone else. He _can._

Ren shakes his head, looking down at the phantom-nothing left in his hands, mutters, “I’ll return to the _Finalizer_ when I’ve found them. I’m not finished.”

With more force, Hux demands, “Come here.”

Ren is trembling now, crumbling under Hux’s unwavering resolve.

“Let me finish this, Hux. I _have to_ finish it.” It sounds like begging even to his own ears, a pathetic attempt to fight what is already set into motion.

“You will. Just not this time.” Hux holds out one gloved hand, beckoning Ren away from the cave’s starless winding passages, back toward the salt and red earth and open sky.

Given Hux’s alternative way forward, the rage leaves Ren and he’s left deflated and exhausted but whole— just _so fucking exhausted_.

Ren takes a shuddery breath. It’s always like this. When he thinks he might shatter under the weight of his own insecurities— dissolve into dust and return to the atmosphere as if he never existed in the first place, just like the dice did moments ago, Hux brings him back, grounds him within his body with a few well placed words, and Ren is freed of the aggravation, the hollow ache, all of it, for just a little while.

Ren goes to him, because there is a choice— but not really.

* * *

 

In the shuttle back to the _Finalizer_ , Hux sits with relaxed posture typing away on his datapad while Ren paces the length between the cockpit and the passenger seats, feet clomping along, head jammed with self doubt under laced with the kind of panic that comes from unwanted anticipation. He doesn’t ask what Hux is doing. If it’s important, Hux will share whatever is so urgent. They’ve been left alone, mostly.  The bustle of idle stormtroopers coming down from adrenaline highs is an irritating background noise somewhere behind them.

“Give me your hand,” Hux says suddenly, eyes still fixed on the screen, its lit surface making the green of his eyes glow.

Stopping in his tracks, Ren tries to look menacing and doesn’t comply. No. Not yet.

Undeterred, Hux switches off his datapad and flips the case closed in one fluid motion. From deep inside the pocket of his great coat, he produces a ribbon of red cloth, flat, like something used to tie the hair back on a child. It’s matte and sturdy, velvet in texture, possibly organic in origin but Ren cannot be sure until he touches it.

Extending his hand a bit further, Hux’s expression remains neutral while he presents it.

Ren laughs, feeling like he might tip back into the realm of hysteria from this alone. “You would bind me here? Make me pay for my sins in front of _my_ army?”

Hux’s eyes are clear, no malice behind them. “Give me your hand,” Hux repeats, voice steady, uncompromising. While Ren weighs his options, wavering uncertainly, Hux snaps his fist closed, hiding the ribbon from Ren’s view. “Or, don’t.”

It isn’t really a challenge until the last part is added, and then. Well, Ren knows what this is now, and he’s surprised at first, because they haven’t. Not like this. Ren hasn’t needed it. No, there wasn’t time to think about needing this in weeks, months even.

Finally, Ren stretches his hand out, palm up, but still close to his body.

Hux’s mouth twitches, never quite into a full-on smile, but he’s pleased. Ren is reminded of how _good that feels_ , plunging into some quiet space where no one and nothing can touch him, where only Hux’s approval matters.

Hux holds his hands open, offering the ribbon to Ren once again. Taking two shaky steps forward, Ren reaches for it, and Hux allows their fingertips to brush, a small reward for compliance.

“Beginning at your wrist, layer it as you would a tourniquet across the length of your left forearm. Tight enough to feel it, but not enough to inhibit circulation. Show me when you’ve finished.”

Ren grits his teeth, every fiber of his being telling him to be good for Hux, to do it properly the first time. He shoves aside the rest and focuses on Hux’s words, the simple task in front of him. Roughly, he lifts the sleeve of his tunic to reveal bare skin and blue veins beneath. Ren wants it on before the others notice, before they see.

“No,” Hux corrects, tips his head forward. “On the outside. I want everyone to see the gift I’ve given you.”

“Hux,” Ren warns, hopes he doesn’t hear the little bit of panic behind the word.

Hux raises his eyebrows, feigning innocence. “Do you not appreciate my gift? You can return it if you don’t like it.”

“No,” Ren assures him, pulls his sleeve down and begins again. He wraps the ribbon around the length of his forearm by looping it in careful circles, making sure it’s tight but not too tight. When he’s done, he tucks the end of the ribbon under the last loop to secure it. The red stands out in contrast to the black of the rest of his clothes, but it’s not suspicious enough that anyone would question it, not outwardly anyway.

Trying to keep himself still, he holds it up for Hux to inspect, feeling a little embarrassed but also curious to see if he’s done it correctly.

Hux sighs, stands and takes hold of Ren’s wrist and pulls his arm closer to inspect it. Ren can’t really see any fault with it, but Hux pinches the fabric, shifts it slightly here and there until there’s nothing of Ren’s ribbed black sleeve showing beneath it.

When he’s satisfied, he nods. “Better.”

Still frozen in place, Ren waits patiently for the rules. There are always rules.

Keeping eye contact, Hux states, “Do not take it off. If you do, I will know. Keep it clean. You are to present it to me whenever I ask. Understood?”

Ren nods.

Hux’s eyebrows shift upward again, waiting.

“Yes, General,” Ren tries again.

Hux smiles fondly and threads Ren’s hair back from his temple, runs his gloved thumb over the shell of his ear before moving away once again. Ren chases the touch with his chin, but makes himself stay in place.

“Good,” Hux purrs.

* * *

 

The next few cycles are endless meetings, mostly done via holo, but some with rooms full of people. Enlisted, officers, suppliers. There’s even a gathering of stormtroopers in the lower decks Ren has never been to before, an introduction, a new beginning. Hux does most of the talking, selling Ren as Supreme Leader to the rest of the Order. Ren doesn’t care much for diplomacy and Hux knows this, does what he can to keeps Ren out of as much as possible.

Somehow, it gets out that Ren can communicate with one of the rebels via the Force, and Ren hates it. Hates the girl being thrown around in passing conversation between generals and commanders like she’s waste, nothing but an avenue to destroy what remains of the Resistance. What happens to her now is of little concern to them.

When he notices Ren’s irritation at being cornered into doing something about the girl, Hux redirects toward conversations about restoring resources, securing supply lines, establishing a base of operations not aboard a volatile starship.

 _The Resistance means nothing now_ , Hux propagates in endlessly maddening loops. _I’ve seen it with my own eyes. They are as inconsequential as a speck of sand under the boot of one stormtrooper in our army of tens of thousands. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has made it so._

He’s good at redirecting, and Ren is almost embarrassed that he never noticed how useful Hux is as a general— soon to be Grand Marshal. Somewhere in his mind he’s always known Hux was competent, but sitting next to him time after time gives him a new appreciation for Hux’s necessity.

And when Ren has reached his limit of suspicion and tedious negotiations, Hux will offer his hand under the War Room table, and Ren will give him his left wrist, let Hux press into the red ribbon still secured there— sometimes with his whole fist tightly encircling Ren’s forearm, sometimes with just two fingers pressed into Ren’s pulse point. Often this will happen while Hux is still speaking to a holo projection of nameless frowning faces, never missing a beat even while he knows Ren is tuning it out.

With Hux holding tightly, Ren is free to stop listening, because in those moments, Ren has everything he needs. Hux’s hands on him, constant reassurance he’s doing well, and Hux’s sharp wit and sharper tongue taking care of the rest.

* * *

 

It occurs to Ren while he’s holding his arm above the spray of the refresher to keep the ribbon clean, that Hux would be laughing right now if he knew what Ren was doing.

Ren has thought about removing it carefully, folding it neatly on the vanity and replacing it after, but Hux would know. Somehow he would. Ren’s already waited three cycles to shower, confident Hux would end this— would have him strung up on the headboard, suspended somewhere in a dark room, bound and fucked open by now, but he hasn’t.

This time, Hux hasn’t said any more about what comes next since the transport returning them to the _Finalizer_ and Ren can’t decide if it’s because they’ve been working nonstop and there isn’t time to do it properly, or if this waiting is part of the game too. Ren isn’t sure if asking is allowed either. It’s never lasted this long without further instructions, and it’s driving him crazy with want. Ren isn’t usually good at waiting. He’s better about it now, controlling himself, but his patience can only stretch so thin.

Just thinking of the possibilities with this ribbon makes Ren hard, and this time is no different. He hasn’t come yet since he tied it to his arm, isn’t sure if that’s allowed either, but decides Hux hasn’t expressly forbid it, so he ends up on his knees on his bed, jerking himself with the arm covered in the red ribbon, tunic half-on and half-off, and coming so hard, he can’t keep himself from throwing his head back and growling.

It’s only after he rolls onto his back, sweating but still wet from the shower, that he notices the splash of come covering the red ribbon.

His heart shudders in his chest, going wild with panic when he sees it, wet and shining and dripping. _Fuck._ He wants to swipe it away, but it might stain, leaving a deeper shade of red behind if he doesn’t remove it carefully. He does what he can at the sink in the refresher. It looks fine after. Ren can’t tell the difference, so Hux won’t either.

Hux can’t possibly know he’s broken a rule.

* * *

Ren is so very wrong.

Hux knows as soon as he sees Ren later. He stops short in the corridor they’re walking together, stops talking about a supply run to the outer rim and the merits of sending one general over another general, both of which Ren doesn’t recall ever meeting. Just stops.

Ren stops too, feeling his breath quicken, knowing that Hux putting a halt to his own thought processes regarding Order strategy is bad news.

“You’ve done something,” Hux accuses. “I know you’ve done something, and you’re going to tell me what it is you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words come out far too defensive for Hux _not_ to be suspicious. The half tilt of Hux’s head, the steady unblinking stare, leaves Ren wondering if Hux _is_ actually force sensitive after all. No, that can’t be it. The only other explanation is that the truth is painted all over Ren’s face. _Fuck._

Ren takes two strides forward, but Hux stays where he is and Ren has to turn and glare at him when he doesn’t follow.

“Now you’ve lied to me. I won’t take that lightly. What have you done, Ren?”

“Can we—” Two stormtroopers behind a lieutenant from Conditioning and Interrogation pass them in the hallway with curt, unassuming greetings. “at least go somewhere more private?”

Hux shuts off his datapad and secures it under his arm, giving Ren his full attention.

“Tell me what you’ve done.”

“I broke a rule,” Ren says suddenly, embarrassed by how much he _can’t_ hide from Hux. If this is about honesty, he’s not even sure he wants to hide it. He deserves whatever punishment Hux chooses to dole out, at least then Hux might fucking touch him, get on with whatever he has planned, because Ren can’t take another moment of not knowing.

“There were only three rules. Be more specific.”

Ren tips his chin forward, trying to appear confident. “Keeping it clean.” 

There’s barely a breath before Hux is backing Ren into an alcove leading to the enlisted quarters, backs Ren up until he’s flush with a doorway, shoulders digging painfully into the keypad so he has to arch into Hux a little more to make room. He takes Ren’s forearm in his hand, holds his wrist painfully tight and examines the ribbon.

“ _Be more specific_ ,” Hux hisses when he can’t find any evidence.

It hardly matters. Ren will tell him everything, anything if he just asks for it. “You didn’t say I couldn’t. I’ve been so hard, waiting. I couldn’t any longer. I didn’t know if it would be there another cycle, or seven, or— _fucking more_.”

Hux smiles, sharp canines made for sinking into Ren’s skin. “You couldn’t wait? You made yourself come all over my gift.” Taking a handful of Ren’s hair, Hux pulls until Ren arches his neck. “Tell me why,” he purrs, teeth scraping along Ren’s windpipe.

Ren squeezes his eyes shut, breathing so hard he’s sure everyone on this ship can hear him gasping. He hates that someone might come upon them like this, that someone might _see_ what Hux does to him, what he lets Hux do to him.

“I can’t,” Ren says in a rush. “You’re the one who’s good with words. _I can’t_ —”

“You can,” Hux insists, pawing Ren’s sides roughly down to his waist, getting his fingers under the hem. “ _You will._ Make it good and I won’t have to punish you for breaking a rule.”

To Ren’s open mouthed surprise, Hux slides to his knees, tugging at Ren’s leggings as he goes down until they’re so low on his hips, he’s sure his hardening cock will free itself.

“I wanted you, want you now,” Ren pants, letting the words free without thinking about what he’s saying. “Always want you. I was thinking about what this means.” He takes hold of his left forearm feeling the ribbon against his palm. “What it _might_ mean. I was thinking about all the ways you could use this to— and I couldn’t wait any longer.”

With his great coat fanning out on the tile beneath him, Hux noses at Ren’s tunic pushing the material aside without touching it with his hands, breathes hot hair across Ren’s dick.

“What should I do to you, Ren? With the ribbon? But— careful. If you’re not imaginative enough, I might consider taking it away. Keeping it locked somewhere out of reach where you might never know how I would have used it on you.”

And he does pull Ren’s leggings down then, and Ren hits his head on the durasteel behind him nearly biting his tongue off in the process, not jerking away, just surprised when Hux licks at the head of his swollen cock with the flat of his tongue. It’s not that Hux has never sucked him off, it’s just the last outcome he thought possible for admitting to breaking a rule.

Hux grips him hard by the back of the thigh when he hits his head. Puts his data pad down so he can do the same with both hands. “Stay still,” he warns, annoyed that he has to say it at all, then hums like he’s contemplating what else he should demand. “Also, don’t come. Yes, I think you’ve come enough for now.”

Ren groans, hating when Hux makes him hold back from coming.

“Get on with it. It’s better if you hurry. This hallway will be quite busy when shift ends in a few minutes.”

Hux licks at the head of his cock again, uses his mouth to suck him down. Ren doesn’t think he can actually talk while Hux does this to him, but he has to try.

“I think about what it might feel like if you bound my hands to the War Room conference table so my arms are stretched wide.” Once the first words come out the rest are easier. It’s what Hux wants, so he’ll do it. “I’d be naked, face down, while you would be fully clothed in your new white robes.” Ren has to pause to calm his breathing, to keep his head clear of the pleasure fog. He doesn’t want Hux to stop, just needs a few moments to collect himself enough to keep talking. Hux must sense this, because he eases up, goes back to just using his tongue on the head, licking at the slit and sucking gently.

He’s listening. Ren knows he’s listening.

“I think— I’d like it if you shoved your fingers in me, opened me up, maybe used your tongue too. And I wouldn’t be able to move, and the ribbon would remind me how much control I’ve given up everytime I forgot, everytime I tried to strain against the ties, because I’d want to touch you so badly.”

Ren tips his head back, stares at the ceiling while he pants. It helps not to look at Hux, at his quiet concentration while his lips are stretched wide. It’s too much to see it and will certainly make Ren come. He feels too close already.

“Maybe all of this is happening with the holo on, projecting it to another starship in the Order, to a room full of people with serious faces, but we’d only turn the sound on for our side. I would have to remain still though, so quiet while you made your speech, answered their inane questions you’ve answered a million times. You’d keep talking the whole time without letting anyone know you were fucking me _so good_. I would be _so good_ for you, Hux.”

Hux stops, mouth shiny with spit, a tiny trail of it still connecting to Ren’s cock. His eyes are half-lidded, heavy with lust. Ren thinks this must be what he looks like while giving head, blissed out, on his knees for Hux. Ren grabs a handful of Hux’s hair, maneuvers him so he’ll look up at Ren. Ren does this without thinking about consequences, forgetting he never received permission to touch, because he has to see it on Hux’s face. The satisfaction, the arousal, the confirmation that Hux wants this too, _wants him._

Because Hux hasn’t told him to stop yet, Ren continues. “You’d make me come without touching my cock. I don’t think I could, but maybe—”

“Enough,” Hux utters, jerking his head out of Ren’s grip and swiping at his mouth. Ren is concerned he’s angered Hux, done something wrong, but when he looks down, he’s left with the opposite impression, the game between them sliding away to reveal cracks in Hux’s careful control.

“That’s enough,” Hux says again, softer and more to himself. He takes a deep, overwhelmed breath that uncurls something primal in Ren. It’s so foreign, Ren hardly knows what to do with it. What it means. How he should proceed. If Hux even knows what’s happening. He doesn’t have to figure it out though, because Hux has himself under control in the next moment. That’s enough. Hux will know what to do next.

With more fluid grace than should be possible, Hux stands, datapad under his arm once again, and tucks Ren back into his leggings. He’s still hard, but there’s little point in protesting.

Ren expects him to move away immediately, but he doesn’t, lingers in close, fitting his lithe body against Ren’s hip, rolls forward so Ren can feel how hard he is.

When Ren still wavers without clear instructions, Hux grabs hold of his left wrist, the one with the ribbon, and directs his hand to Hux’s bottom, pulling himself even closer, gasping when Ren squeezes tightly.

It almost feels like Hux is breaking his own rules, to lose a little bit of his own control, and that’s confusing but also thrilling to know Ren did that to him.

“I’m so hard right now,” Hux whispers against his ear. “Do you feel how much I want to do everything you’ve said? That’s how much you’re needed, Ren.” Soothing words that dampen the fire, refocusing Ren’s energy toward only things that matter. Yes, this is what he needs.

Too soon, Hux backs away, adjusts his coat once again and examines it for wrinkles. Drags his hands through his hair to make sure it’s in place. It isn’t as perfectly set as it was before, but Ren hardly feels like he should draw attention to this.

Satisfied, Hux opens his datapad once again, clears his throat, and turns to walk in the original direction they were headed without checking to see if Ren is following. “As I was saying, the two generals in question are both similar in experience levels. Both highly respected within the Order—”

There’s nothing left to do but follow, so Ren does his best to keep up.

* * *

 

It turns out, things happen easier when Ren stops fighting them, stops looking for answers and stands still long enough for the answers to come to him.

He was right about the girl. Their connection remains intact, and Ren can feel her again. It starts slowly, a pinprick of awareness at the back of his skull. Her presence ghosting over him like a veil, a wisp of fog that he can see, can reach towards, but can’t grab onto. If Ren can chip away at her shields, tear holes in them with enough momentum, then he should be able to fully connect with her.

It takes seven cycles before she appears in his dreams again.

She’s running. Always running, but this time is different. A surge of fear pushes her faster. Can’t get there fast enough, wherever she’s going, and she’s crying, great tears trailing her cheeks and down her neck. Something’s happened she can’t control. Ren tries to keep up, but he doesn’t know this place, so he leans on her, wedges his subconscious into a part of her mind where she can’t easily shrug him off.

They’re in a forest. Not covered in snow this time. It’s hot, humidity dragging them both down with its weight, a heavy blanket that coats their lungs and rolls off their skin as sweat. The forest feels alive around them, foreign, eerie sounds that don’t frighten the girl, lots of places for hiding or falling.

“Get out of my head,” Rey screams to no one, echo swallowed by the dense forest. She can’t see Ren, but knows he’s there anyway.

_Stop running. Let me help you._

Ren pushes her forward, lending her his strength and stamina to keep going. She accepts before she thinks about what that might mean, and Ren knows he has her now.

In the next moment, the gates to her mind shut so abruptly, Ren is thrown back into his body with enough force to knock the wind from him. He wakes up gasping and it takes several tries before he can force air back into his lungs. There’s sweat dripping from his face, and his cheeks are hot as if the sun from the planet has burned his skin too.

Once Ren is able to breathe again, he feels the information he gathered begin to slip through his fingers like sand, like waking from a dream and forgetting details when you don’t force yourself to remember them.

He manages to hold onto just enough.

Ren knows where the Resistance is hiding.

* * *

“I know where they are,” Ren announces, once he’s permitted to enter Hux’s private rooms. Hux is at his desk, dressed only in grey sleeping pants and a thin shirt. Ren always forgets how small he looks without his uniform, without the great coat especially.

Hux straightens in his seat with interest. “The girl?”

“All of them. A planet in the Unknown Regions. It doesn’t have a name, but they call it Revena. There aren’t many left, maybe thirty, but that’s more than how we left them. The girl is there. And—”

“Your mother?”

Ren nods, but doesn’t say anymore. He doesn’t know what he’ll do about his mother yet.

Within seconds, Hux pulls up a detailed holo of the galaxy, blows out the image until it’s across the length of his desk and extending out over half of the room, turns the lights down to 20% so the holo is brilliantly lit and types in a few coordinates on his datapad. The holo zooms to a section of the Unknown Regions. Stardust and planets glowing against Ren’s skin. Ren steps into the shadows behind Hux while he adjusts the coordinates to suit Ren’s feedback.

When Ren sees it, he knows he’s right. He feels it, even now.

“There.”  He points to a greenish blue planet, faint, but distinctly glowing within a cluster of four planets, offset by its color and size compared to the other three. Hux pulls the coordinates into a database and projects a grainy image of the planet from his datapad, tries to magnify it but the database doesn’t contain satellite images from a closer distance.

“There’s little data on this section of the Unknown Regions,” Hux reads, scanning the information on his datapad for anything relevant. “The planet is classified as terrain, habitable by various carbon based lifeforms, including hominids, oxygen and nitrogen rich atmosphere, mineral composition unknown, large numbers of unknown species of flora and fauna, but uncolonized due to its volatile orbit around a rapidly expanding Red Giant. It’s only given a number and numeral for classification purposes, 23651-IV. Meaning— it will likely be consumed by the Red Giant in our lifetime.”

Cliffed green land, jungles rich in animals. Yes. Ren saw this place in his dream.

“Do you think she knows _you know_ where they are?”

“I don’t think she does. She was distressed. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Even now I can feel her. I think I’ll know if they’re on the move.”

“Good,” Hux says, likely satisfied that they won’t need to engage the fleet right away. They’ll have some time to plan.

Hux takes hold of Ren’s wrist extended out over his shoulder, holds onto the red ribbon. He leans his head against Ren’s shoulder while he listens to Ren tell him about the dream that he isn’t sure was a dream, how the thin connection between them is still there, how her shields are weakening. She’s distressed, unable to keep him out while she worries over the life of another. Maybe that traitor FN-2187 or Poe _fucking_ Dameron, maybe his mother, but— maybe not. How he chose to give her a bit of his strength to push on, run faster, and when she accepted, she couldn’t keep him out any longer.

“Are you ready to end this?” Hux asks after a while, relaxed and languid as Ren’s excitement hightens.

No, Ren wants to say, because he’s not ready, but he will be. He will be strong enough to end it when it’s time.

“The Resistance?”

“No, Ren. Not the Resistance.” Hux slips two fingers along the edge of the ribbon, loosening the end tucked beneath until it falls free. Ren watches him slowly unravel it from his arm, like one might unwrap a gift. When it’s off, Ren already feels strange without its confining presence. “Are _you_ ready?”

“To end this?” Ren’s heart stammers into a panic when he thinks about what Hux could mean, to catch up, when their game hasn’t crossed his mind since the dream. Maybe that’s what Hux was waiting for, for him to let it go. It’s also possible that Hux is just aroused by the possibility of ending the Resistance for good.

Hux turns on his heel so he can smile at Ren, the ribbon protected in his hand. “We’ll just have to see how well you listen, won’t we?”

Hux backs up to sit on his desk, crosses his legs under him, blocking half of the holo projection with his body, light bleeding along his outline so he’s illuminated in a blue glow.

“Undress. I want to see you.”

Ren does, sheds his layers as quickly as he can manage. It’s the longest minutes of his life, thinking about the ribbon in Hux’s hands, how naked he feels without it gripping his forearm. He thinks about the fantasy he spoke aloud in the corridor, and is a little disappointed it won’t be like that, but Hux has something else planned so that’s also intriguing.

“Come here. Give me your hands. Palm to palm so your wrists are touching.”

Ren does this to, remembering the first time, just after the salt planet. Ten cycles ago now. Hux wraps the ribbon around both of his wrists, weaving the strand over and under until they’re secured to each other in a tight wrap of red. Ren flexes his hands, makes a fist to know if there’s any give. He could break free if he wanted, but that’s hardly the point. The feeling of being bound, held together, knowing it’s Hux who’s done it to him— that’s the part that makes Ren’s heart race, his cock ache, his breath quicken.

“Arms behind your head, rest your wrists at the back of your neck.”

Hux watches him carefully, beckons him forward with an ankle wrapped around Ren’s thigh until he’s between Hux’s legs.

“Is it uncomfortable?” he asks with sincerity.

“It’s fine,” Ren says. It’s a little awkward, and the blood rushing down will eventually leave his fingertips tingling, but he’s sure he can hold this position for awhile.

“Good.” Hux removes his shirt, cheeks and chest already flushed with desire. “You can kiss me now.”

Ren doesn’t waste time with this command, but presses forward a little too fast without the use of his hands, and Hux has to catch himself on the edge of the desk, arching over the holo so he doesn’t break it. The light of the galaxy is bisected by his body while they’re both sighing into the first press of their mouths together.

Hux seems to want Ren to direct this, so he does his best, recalls that Hux loves the full slide of his tongue, a slower rhythm, an open, devouring kind of kiss that will leave them both breathless, their jaws aching. He takes Hux’s bottom lip between his teeth, sucks on it until Hux is pushing forward again, seeking reconnection, something deeper. Ren has never wanted to kiss like his, not with anyone else.

Hux traces the wet corner of Ren’s mouth with his thumb, fingernails pressing into the cords of his neck. Ren bites down on his thumb until Hux lets out this little gasping moan and lets Ren suck on it before redirecting Ren toward his mouth again.

“Carry me to the bed. You can move your arms to do so.”

There’s a kind of desperation in Hux’s voice Ren isn’t used to, but he’s also not going to argue. Ren gets his arms underneath Hux’s shoulders, and Hux squirms through the circle of his arms until he’s able to hold tightly with his arms around Ren’s neck and ankles wrapped around his waist.

It’s awkward when they detangle from each other on the bed, Ren falling forward and landing heavily on top of Hux, but Ren hardly minds, because their mouths are still attached. Hux doesn’t complain about being crushed in the process, only rolls his hips forward and squeezes Ren’s waist tighter with his thighs.

“Lay on your back, arms behind your head again.” Hux says this as he’s crawling backward from the bed, hurrying toward the refresher. He returns with a tube of lubrication pilfered from Medbay. The good kind.

Hux removes his sleeping pants before kneeling on the bed again. More than ready for Hux’s fingers, Ren bends his knees to give him access, but instead, Hux straddles his waist before dripping the lube over his fingers and rubbing it into distribute it evenly. He bends forward and Ren can’t see exactly what’s happening, but is fairly certain Hux is fingering _himself_ open.

“Oh,” Ren says aloud. They’ve never done it like this before.

“I’m sorry it isn’t more elaborate. Nothing like that filthy fantasy that left your mouth earlier. I had something planned, but I’ve been thinking about this since that time in the corridor. It wouldn’t leave me, so—”

Ren drops his arms to his chest and sits up on his elbows, frowning at Hux. “Are you— apologizing for wanting to ride my cock?”

Mumbling a swear under his breath, Hux’s cheeks are red enough that Ren wants to rub his own cheek against it to feel the heat. That’s good. So fucking good.

“Have you done this before?” Ren asks with a deeper frown, not particularly wanting to coach Hux through it, but also caring deeply about making this good for him.

Hux presses Ren’s chest until he lays flat again, bound hands behind his head again and takes hold of his dick, rubbing more lube along the length of it. “If I talk about past sexual partners, does that get you off too? Your kinks are endless, I swear.” Ren chooses to ignore this, because Hux is masking his own insecurities with deflection. That’s fine. He has Hux’s hand on his cock. There’s nothing that could make that _not_ worth it. He wonders wildly if Hux will let him come this time.

If Hux doesn’t know what he’s doing, he doesn’t make it seem that way when he slides down on Ren’s cock a little at a time. This isn’t surprising. He’s good at making people believe he knows more than he does. Then there’s tight, hot pressure all along the length of his cock and Ren can’t think about anything else. Ren tries to hold himself still but it’s torture waiting, especially after Hux makes this choked off moan and clenches hard enough to draw out an echo from Ren.

“Yes,” Hux declares, digging his fingers into Ren’s shoulders when he leans over and grinds backward and forward against Ren’s dick, searching for a suitable angle.

“Ren,” he growls. “You’ve been keeping this from me? I should punish you for not suggesting this.”

Ren is about eighty percent sure Hux isn’t serious about the punishment, and the other twenty percent of him is curious, not frightened.

“It’s better from behind,” Ren grits out with sex-fever impulsivity, speaking only from his own experience on the receiving end. “I can fuck you faster and deeper.”

Hux squeezes his eyes shut, makes this obscene noise in the back of his throat while he rolls his hips steadily, cock heavy and bobbing between his legs. “Is that what you want?”

“You’ll have to let me try it first,” Ren says, and Hux gives him this unrestrained look, pupils blown wide with arousal. “After, I’ll tell you if I like it.” He doesn’t mean for stating facts to sound erotic but realizes it must sound that way by Hux's reaction.

Hux shoves off of him and gets on his hands and knees without any further discussion. With Ren’s hands still bound and behind his head, it takes some time to line up properly, but once Hux guides himself backward to sit on Ren’s dick with his back to Ren’s chest and then bending forward again, they make it work. Hux doesn’t offer to untie Ren, and Ren doesn’t want that anyway.

Ren is trembling before long, trying his best to comply with every barked, “ _Faster_. Don’t hold back. Don’t you _fucking_ dare.” He’s demanding even when he’s getting fucked, and Ren is mostly grateful for it.

Hux has his face buried in the blankets, hips arched high, when Ren finally has to beg, “Hux. Let me come. Let me come. I’ll do anything you ask. Everything. _Please let me fucking come._ ”

“Yes,” Hux sighs, sweat rolling down his back in a way that demands Ren bend forward and lick it. “Yes, come inside me, Ren. Do it.”

Ren is coming before Hux finishes his sentence, vision blacking out for a moment, body so strained and tight from the release, from holding himself together as long as Hux demanded. After he pulls out, he feels boneless and disconnected, all the tension leaving him at once.

He ends up on his back again with Hux climbing on top of him again. Ren won’t be able to come again for a while, but he usually stays hard just after orgasm, so Hux takes it upon himself to slide down onto Ren’s dick once again, fucking himself open on Ren’s come. Ren groans and arches back. He’s too sensitive still, but won’t tell Hux to stop.

Hux takes hold of his own cock, pumps himself a dozen times before he’s coming too. Ren loves watching Hux come— loves the pinched frown between his brows, the snarl of his mouth, the curl of his toes, loves it all. Feeling it from the inside adds a new dimension, one that Ren rather likes.

After, they trade lazy kisses while Hux unties him, then examines the reddened skin with careful consideration, kisses each wrist and traces his tongue along the veins of his forearms one at a time.

Ren doesn’t remember what happens next, falls asleep satisfied and exhausted with Hux still on top of him.

* * *

 

An hour before the next shift begins, Ren wakes to an empty bed, but hears Hux on his comm, pacing in his adjoining office. Plans for moving on the Resistance are already in motion. Hux will see that it’s carried out swiftly now that they have coordinates. There’s little time to waste— if it’s what Ren wants.

Ren swings his legs over the side of the bed and rubs at the reddened skin of his wrists. They itch and are a little swollen, but not badly injured. There will be some bruising on the sides where the ribbon cut into him the most. Ren likes the sting when he presses into them, remembers how it made him feel with Hux grinding down on his cock, and every second he thought about it for the last dozen cycles. Safe, secure, cared for. The ribbon lay forgotten and taggled in the blankets. Ren picks it up and runs his fingertips over its length.

The comm goes silent and Hux is at his desk typing furiously on the console for a while. Ren loops the ribbon once around his wrist, pulls tightly to feel the pressure, likes how the red looks against his bare skin.

When Hux enters the room with a mug of tea in one hand and his comm in the other, he’s half dressed for his shift, his attention on his comm. He asks, “How are your wrists?” but doesn’t wait for the answer before continuing. He already knows the answer. “I’ve made an appointment for you in Medbay for this afternoon. There’s an override code needed to cancel it, so don’t bother trying. I’ve told Dr. Reina to come look for you if you don’t show. She’s my finest medical officer, so do not waste her time. Understood?”

Ren nods. It’s not an argument he cares to get into at the moment, but his wrists are fine.

Hux stops when he returns from the refresher, stares at Ren with a knowing smile.

“You like it that much?” Hux asks, nodding toward the ribbon.

Ren keeps his head bowed, concentrating on wrapping his forearm instead of the impossible decisions ahead of him about the Resistance. “I like what it means.”

Putting his tea down first, Hux kneels on the bed behind Ren, presses his face into Ren’s hair, cold nose against Ren’s neck. He smells nice, clean, like shaving cream and shampoo and black tea with a little Tangawizi root. Hux inhales and exhales a few times before whispering, “What does it mean, Ren?”

Hux knows what it means, but he must want Ren to say it aloud.

“I belong to you,” and it’s the easiest thing he’s ever had to admit. The words don’t feel like enough though— how could they be? After all the times Hux has saved him? What if everything he has to give still isn’t enough? That claustrophobic, panicky feeling starts to return, and Hux must sense Ren’s thoughts are going somewhere dark, because he slides to the floor on his knees and trails hands up Ren’s thighs until they’re open wide enough for him to fit between.

Gently, he takes over wrapping the ribbon around Ren’s forearm, avoiding his bruised wrist, doing it up as he likes.  Ren is relieved, likes knowing it will be perfectly formed when Hux is finished.

“Yes,” is all Hux says as he tucks the end of the ribbon under the last loop. “Yes, you do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I made a mood board for this [here at my tumblr.](http://samedifference61.tumblr.com/post/170913137022/hold-on-written-for-the-2018)


End file.
